


Its Not Dandelion

by Thegayfren



Series: Little Secrets [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: 5+1 Things, AH YES, Angst, BUT NOT BEFORE ANGST, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has PTSD, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Siren Jaskier | Dandelion, Sorry Not Sorry, Whump, You May Cry, book geralt in this boi, but not geralt, but people were, characters being mean, did i put sabrinna in it?, half-siren, i do it for them since they cannot, i just want my boys to be happy, kay - Freeform, lutes were not harmed, men working though complicated feels, oh god the angst, roach knows, sorry - Freeform, the ending made me sad, the life of a fictional character, they all have feelings, yes i did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegayfren/pseuds/Thegayfren
Summary: Jaskier is tired of a lot of things. But at the top of the list is his name. Damn it all to Valdo Marx. May he rot in the deepest pit of hell.Aka 5 times Jaskier's name is miss-translated, and 1 time it isn't.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Little Secrets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636789
Comments: 10
Kudos: 407





	Its Not Dandelion

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy book!Geralt being sweet to poor Jaskier.

**1.**

Jaskier couldn't really remember the first time someone messed up his name, but he would never forget this certain encounter.

They had been traveling to Novigrad, which left Jaskier a little fidgety. They were getting too close to his home for his liking. He would happily stay as far away from certain places as possible. He glanced to his right to see a small child run up to him asking what his name was.

"Oh, mister! I see your lute! What's your name?"

Jaskier got down to the level of the child and said, "It's Jaskier! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"What Jasker mean?"

"Jaskier, and it means-" he was rudely cut off by Valdo Marx stepping near him.

"It means Dandelion." Valdo Marx had a wicked grin. He knew Jaskier would hate it, so of course, he started it.

The child skipped off yelling, "Like the wishing flower! Bye, Mr. Dandelion!" Once the child was out of earshot, he glared at the bard near him.

"Oh, you'll pay for this."

"You wish, dear failure. Have fun getting rid of that one. I heard it recently and thought it would be perfect for the talentless bard. One who has no use, just like a dandelion."

With that Valdo Marx left the other bard fuming with anger. He would get his damn revenge. He would…

The rest of the trip he spent sulking. Geralt would even try to get him to speak. "It is odd having the silence I normally wish so hard for."

Jaskier would snap back with, "Well good-for-fucking-you then."

Later in the trip, he would sit back and think. Geralt really didn't deserve his anger, but he was pissed. He wanted that damn idiot (Valdo Marx, not Geralt) dead. Only then would he feel true happiness. The man took the name that had given him freedom and then trapped him again. He could never escape. But the small child loved his name. He had never heard of a Dandelion as a wishing flower. It was always considered a useless weed that no noble wanted in their precious gardens.

"Jaskier, come, we are at the inn."

Geralt thankfully snapped the bard out of his spiraling monolog. Jaskier looked up to see himself in front of the inn. He didn't even remember beginning the journey back from the hunt. Geralt had even put up Roach. Damn, he really was in for it.

**2.**

Jaskier had had a long day really. He had a blister on his foot and was fucking exhausted. He couldn’t wait to fall into a bed and sleep. Geralt was also in a pissy mood which was not helping one bit. Roach was also being mean to him, which was not appreciated.

That’s how he found himself drunk, alone, and crying. A woman came up to him and asked if he was okay. All she got in return was tears. The alcohol numbed the mental pain he felt. Eventually, he went to head to bed after having cried until he could no longer.

Before he managed to escape a barmaid called out to him, “Dandelion! Sir, could you come here?”

He begrudgingly headed to her as she requested if she could play his lute. It made him laugh and he handed her the instrument.

“Be careful. This was gifted to me by a great person.”

After the woman strummed it with child-like wonder, he headed to bed with better peace of mind. It still stung every time someone called him “dandelion”.

**3.**

He laughed in front of the court as they gathered and cheered for the great Master Bard, Dandelion, to sing of his great travels. Geralt and he had split for an unknown time, and he sat alone in a crowd of too many.

If Geralt was here, he could have escaped early on, but here he sat drinking and flirting. Tonight was harder than most. He wanted to just tell anyone who would listen about the pain he felt and was going through. He wanted to scream and cry about how unfair it all was.

Unfortunately, life was shitty. Destiny pretty much hated him. And he had a performance to continue on. He sighed as he grabbed the lute and cried out, “Who would like to hear just how great I, a Master Bard, am?!”

Once he got into the rhythm of playing and singing, it made the pain duller. Music was his drug, and goddammit, he was addicted to it. Even if he couldn’t let his power seep through, he could at least let the music continue to live on in his life.

Later that night Jaskier realized just how much of a sap he had become. Guess trauma works wonders in his storytelling.

**4.**

Jaskier was currently somewhat fucked. He had foolishly accompanied Geralt on a hunt and now ran from the field as the Griffin decided he was enough siren to make a yummy meal of fish. Which was offensive because A) he was half-siren and B) sirens were not fish. Hell, they ate them. Truly the apex predator in the sea, and now on land he was about to be bird food. 10/10 would not recommend.

He wished he could let go and actually fight, but then that could 100% lead to an interaction with Geralt that he was not ready yet to deal with. SO instead, he would just run to the nearest shelter he could find. Which happened to be a small wooden shack.

He ripped open the door and slammed it shut, huffing and puffing from having to use his legs so much. As he turned he found a nice small cabin-like home instead of a rundown shack. Like the outside made it seem to be.

Fuck. Of course, this was his luck. Escape a Griffin just to walk into the house of a mage? Yup, makes total sense to destiny. To his surprise, a woman with blonde hair stepped out. “Who are you? This place is warded from humans.”

“Ahaha. Funny story. Um, I was being attacked by a Griffin. You’re shack, cabin, home thing was the first place I found that I could hide in. Please don’t kill me!”

“I surely won’t kill you. Come, sit. I have some tea brewing. What is your name by the way? I am Sabrinna.”

Jaskier stiffly sat down as he quietly stated his name. When the blonde came back in, she surprised him by her gleeful exclamation of, “Jaskier? Wow, what a surprise to be in front of the great bard, Dandelion, himself.”

“Hehe, Yeah.”

He eventually calmed and got to know the mage. Sabrinna was kind enough to refill his tea as they chatted away. He discovered she knew Yennefer, and that they weren’t very close but considered each other acquaintances. Eventually, Sabrinna looked up and stated to him rather firmly, “Your Witcher friend has slain the beast. He is headed this way. You may want to leave before he gets here. I do not wish to deal with his kind. Too brutish for my liking.”

“Is there a way I could meet you again? You have brought some peace to me. I would enjoy doing this again.”

She stood and handed him an arrowhead. “Use this whenever. Just say my name and it will teleport you here.”

With that Jaskier stepped out back into the woods. Next time he would need to correct Sabrinna on the mistranslation ordeal that is his name.

**5.**

Shit, shit, shit…Jaskier was about two seconds away from passing out or curling up and crying.

Geralt had walked away to speak to the inn-keeper about the room and board. They were low on coin and he needed to be gone on a hunt soon if they were to stay relatively in the green.

It had all been fine actually. He was talking to a lovely young lad about the age of 20. He had been _this_ close to getting a little something on the side of this trip.

Alright! He'd come out and say, but only if asked. He was plenty slutty. He would happily bed any man, woman, whatever-the-fuck you called yourself. If you were interested and he was, good as gold.

But he did not sleep with any man older than what a certain ex is at the current time. Their age difference was forever burned in his mind.

Thus bringing back Jaskier to his current predicament. After the failed courting of the boy, he headed to the tavern and discussed playing. The keeper agreed and Jaskier enjoyed himself to some playing and ale. Soon he was tired and sat down to rest from the set.

Jaskier was slightly inhibited with the alcohol mixing in his veins. He leaned on the table and grinned at the young redhead in front of him. She laughed at his dumb comment and rested her hand on his.

It was going quite well. He was pretty sure that he'd have company tonight. He had been lonely. This bout of separation from Geralt was longer than normal, and goddammit he was lonely.

Eventually, the redhead had a friend come over.

"Hey, I'm Angie. I am Carol's friend."

This would be a wonderful night Jaskier thought. It was until a man came bounding in. Jaskier took notice of several things quickly. Number 1: this man was clearly older than him by at least twenty years. Number 2: he was clearly irate. And number 3: the man was headed over to the table he sat at with the girls.

The man roughly pushed the table and grabbed Jaskier by the collar of his shirt. He had gone full-blown panic now. His fight or flight reflexes kicked in, and he could feel his control slipping. He could feel his teeth and nails sharpening. It hurt like hell after not happening for so long. The shading in his skin became less pale and took on a greenish tint. Jaskier could feel his power bubbling up inside. The sea called for him as he tried valiantly to get the man's hands off him.

“Are you the one known as Dandelion? How dare you go and touch my children!”

Jaskier, if he could go back and think of anything else, he might point out how he didn’t touch them. That they came onto him, but right now he was currently trying to breathe as he felt the hands grip his throat. Before the man could squeeze Jaskier screamed. A scream sounding not unlike a banshee. He felt all the pain buried underneath him rush out and scatter in soundwaves unmeant for human ears. If anyone could understand the language of sirens, they would have known he cried out in pain. Pain from the repeated destruction of his name. The name that was meant to give him freedom, which now grounded him cruelly.

The lights in the tavern went out and the man crumbled to the ground. Jaskier took that time to run, his heightened senses giving him the ability to see better. Did he even know where Geralt was? Hell no. He was supposed to be on a hunt. He couldn’t even go to the man either. He was likely to end up dead that way.

So instead he ran to the forest. He could feel a rushing stream. He needed to call his beating heart before he did in fact pass out.

Once he found the water he curled onto the ground and breathed. He focused on calming his erratic heart and body. He hummed a song to himself. He allowed his power to seep through the music and distort it into beauty. He eventually felt time slow and sleep come.

**6.**

Jaskier was unsure whether he wanted Geralt to ask about what the hell happened to the tavern. Why he was gone and asleep in the woods next to a damn river. He wanted to tell Geralt everything, but instead, he found himself scared. He just wanted someone who wouldn't try to kill him after he confessed the truth.

He had been incredibly quiet thinking the entire time. He must have been worrying Geralt.

“Bard.” no response

“Jaskier.” nothing

“Jask.” nope, not even a smirk

Geralt was at his wit's end. He was worried. Very much so. He had found his travel companion asleep in the woods after he finished the hunt, and the tavern they were staying at, a mess.

He grabbed the bard by the shoulder, and he saw him become stiff. “Buttercup? Are you okay?”

Jaskier’s eyes moved up to look Geralt directly in the eye. Tears welled up and fell silently but quickly. Jask grabbed him and hugged hard. He sobbed out what felt to be years and years of pain. Geralt squeezed back. Later he would ask for more, but for now, this was good enough.


End file.
